


A Magician's Secrets

by Tell_Me_Tales



Series: Stuff I'll Never Finish ...Oops [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 'cause I'm lazy as they come, ...and I'm still not likely to do anything more with this, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Wizard-Raised Harry, Don't get caught, Gen, I've got something of a plot planned out, Remember the Plan, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7783492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tell_Me_Tales/pseuds/Tell_Me_Tales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The entire Wizarding World is rocked when, at the age of seven, the Boy-Who-Lived becomes the Child-That-Vanished. What happened to Harry Potter? And where is he? Despite the best efforts of the MLE and Aurors, it isn't until four years later that they are able to answer the second question. And they may never learn the truth about the first; because for whatever reason, Potter's unwilling to share any of the secrets surrounding his disappearance.</p><p><b>Fair Warning:</b> This isn't likely to get past the (prologue and) first chapter. Not because I don't know where I want to take this (because I do have <i>some</i> idea) but because I'm too lazy to write it all out and I've got too many story ideas to even try making them all a reality. Sorry. But I wrote this little bit, so may as well share it. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

******_BOY-WHO-LIVED MISSING! DEATH EATERS SUSPECTED!_ **

_ Early this morning, Albus Dumbledore (Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, etc.) reported that Harry Potter has disappeared from his Muggle relatives' home, where he was placed shortly after defeating You-Know-Who. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has not revealed much at this point, claiming that it is too early in the investigation to be certain of what happened, but they have confirmed that they are looking into the possibility of Death Eater involvement. _

_ "There is a very real chance that some renegade supporter of You-Know-Who may be responsible for Potter's disappearance," said Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, "They might be after revenge, or perhaps they're just insane. Regardless, we are doing everything in our power to find Potter as quickly as possible." _

_ Scrimgeour went on to say there are suspicions that Potter's relatives may have been confunded, which he claimed would help to explain some 'oddities' he had observed in the couple and their son. All three Muggles also displayed a 'higher than average' aversion to magic of any sort, which further supports the theory that Potter was kidnapped by magical means and spells cast at his guardians. _

_ When asked what actions the Auror Office would be taking...  _ **_(Story continued on page 2)_ **

The wizard clutched his copy of the  _ Daily Prophet _ with both hands, crinkling the paper. He didn't need to read any further. He already knew what was going to happen next. The only question was how much he could manipulate to his favor before it was too late.


	2. Making Tracks

"Harry James Potter," the blond boy snapped, "are you listening to me?"

Harry sighed, dragging his gaze away from the window to look at the other young wizard in the compartment. "Yes, Draco."

Draco Malfoy huffed and crossed his arms. "You'd better be. This is important!" he warned, "And you're supposed to call me 'Malfoy,' Potter. _Not_ 'Draco.'"

"I know, I know," Harry moaned the words more than he said them.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Say it."

"Malfoy."

The blond tisked and demanded, "You can do better than _that_. Say it like you hate me."

Green eyes flashed before Harry hoisted himself out of his slouched position. He straightened his shoulders and glared at his companion. " _Malfoy_ ," he snarled -- almost growled -- the word out.

Draco's gray gaze swept over his face critically before he nodded. "A bit over the top, but it will do." A smirk spread across his lips. "Well done, Baby Brother."

"I'm older than you!" Harry insisted, completely exasperated at this point, and flopped back into the bench-cushions again.

Draco hummed a noncommittal response as he stood up. "I supposed you are, even if it is only by a measly two weeks. My apologies, _Little_ Brother," he said as he reached out and ruffled the shorter child's hair.

Harry glared. Draco just laughed.

"I wish Dad hadn't cut it," Harry muttered.

Draco grinned wider. "Bit late for that, but you're right. Your hair's an absolute mess when it's too short to be tied back. On the bright side, _my_ hair is still perfect."

Harry's next words were said in an impressive monotone, despite the glare that lingered on his face. "Get out of my compartment, Draco, before I hex you out."

"Already gone," the blond said over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.

Harry sighed and tugged at a few strands of his dark hair. He really hated the ragged lengths it now fell in, but Draco was right; there wasn't much that could be done about it now.

...Except maybe to lookup a hair-cutting jinx in Hogwarts' library to hit Draco with later.

* * *

Draco walked back towards the compartment he had stored his trunk in earlier. He was not pleased to be stopped halfway there by a bossy, frizzy-haired, buck-toothed witch, but he was all the same.

"Have you seen a toad?" she asked shortly, "A boy named Neville's lost his."

Draco's face twisted in distaste. "A toad? Why would he want it back?"

The girl seemed to puff-up indignantly on the absent boy's behalf, but she didn't get a chance to answer. At that moment, a large, wart-covered toad hopped onto the blond's right shoe.

Draco screamed and kicked out, sending the toad flying towards the young witch.

"There you are!" she said in triumph as she caught creature in mid-flight, "Oh, I do hope you're the right toad."

"I can't believe you're touching that diseased thing," Draco sneered.

"He's not diseased," she argued back, her attention once again focused on the wizard in front of her, "In fact, he looks like a rather healthy toad. See how his--"

"Ugh," Draco interrupted with obvious contempt, "I don't care!" He passed by her without another thought, eager to hide himself away in his hopefully-still-empty compartment. He didn't want to deal with any more dunderheads if he could avoid it.

"Thanks for your help!" she called from behind him, but Draco couldn't tell if she meant it sincerely or sarcastically.

Not that it mattered. He'd already decided that he didn't care about the crazy witch one way or the other.

* * *

There was a knock on the door just before a redhead with a riot of freckles peeked through the doorway. "Can I sit in here?" he asked, "Everywhere else is full."

"Alright," Harry said as he sat up and began twiddling his thumbs nervously.

"Thanks, mate," the redheaded wizard said as he pulled his trunk in behind him and then claimed the seat opposite Harry. "I'm Ron Weasley. Who're you?"

"My name's Harry," he said as he offered his hand to shake. The other wizard flushed as he suddenly remembered his manners and hurriedly accepted the extended hand. "Harry Potter."

* * *

There was a knock on the door and Draco once again (mentally) cursed the fact that the Hogwarts Express didn't have any physical locks on its doors, relying solely on locking charms that he didn't know yet. Before he could yell a rude dismissal through the door, it opened to reveal the same witch from earlier.

"You!"

The bushy-haired witch blinked at the greeting. She crossed her arms and responded, "Yes, me; and my name is Hermione, by the way. This is Neville." Hermione gestured to the boy almost hidden behind her. Draco had missed the other boy entirely before the young witch had drawn attention to him.

"I don't care who either of you are," Draco said, "This is my compartment. Go find a different one."

Neville started to edge away, but Hermione barely looked back even as she grabbed the timid boy's robe-sleeve. "All the other compartments are packed full," she argued, refusing to back-off so much as an inch, "Besides, our trunks are already in this one. You hardly need a whole compartment to yourself."

Draco opened his mouth to retort but the words died on his tongue when a compartment at the other end of the car opened.

"Come, Vincent, we'll find Draco on our own," the words echoed just a bit as they bounced down the corridor to his ears.

This time Draco cursed out loud, though he managed to keep it to a soft hiss, "Shite!" He grabbed the shoulders of both Hermione's and Neville's robes. Fingers fisting into the soft material, he tugged; the two stumbled into the compartment just before he all-but-slammed the door closed. "Don't think this means I want you here," he said as he turned to face the startled witch and wizard.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Hermione quipped, the first to recover. "Who was she that you were so desperate to avoid her?"

Draco glared and reclaimed the bench he had been sitting on before his unwanted guests had come knocking. He picked up the book he had abandoned earlier and then spread out over the bench so that neither newcomer could sit next to him even if either had been inclined to do so. "I'm not _desperate_ ," he denied, "I just didn't want to talk to her. And if you _must_ know, her name is Pansy Parkinson. Vincent Crabbe was the one that was with her."

"And your name?" she pried him for more information even as she stood on the opposite bench in order to retrieve one of her own books before settling down to read.

Draco sneered at her, but the look was wasted. Hermione had already buried her nose in her book. "Malfoy."

Surprisingly, Neville was the one that responded, cutting off what the bossy witch would have asked next. "You're Draco Malfoy?" The chubby boy paled.

"So you know of me do you?" Draco smirked, setting his book aside for the moment. "I suppose that means you aren't some pathetic little muggle-born, after all--"

"What's wrong with being muggle-born?" Hermione demanded, her knuckles turning white as she tightened her grip on the book she held.

Draco waved her off lazily. "--And you are." He turned his attention back to Neville. "Family name?"

"L-Longbot-tom."

"Oh, I've heard of you."

Neville fidgeted. "You have?" he asked, voice anxious.

"Well, not much," the blond admitted, but there was a cruel smirk on his lips, "Just that your parents found themselves on the wrong side of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, and you've been in your grandmother's care since."

Neville's face had turned white as a sheet.

"Oh, Neville, I'm so terribly sorry!" Hermione said, laying a hand on her companion's arm, not that Neville appeared to notice the gesture.

Neither Hermione nor Draco were prepared for Neville's reaction.

The boy's face suddenly flushed with color as he yelled, "At least I still get to see my parents!"

* * *

"You're Harry Potter!"

Ron's eyes had gone so wide that Harry was almost surprised that they hadn't popped out of his head yet. But as amusing as the sight may have been, all Harry could think was, _'Here we go again...'_

The dark-haired wizard groaned and fell back against the bench's backrest again. "Please don't."

"Don't what?" Ron asked, honest confusion plain in his voice.

Harry stared hard at the other boy before he leaned forward as said very seriously, "Idolize me." When Ron continued to look puzzled, Harry went on, "It's been like that since the Aurors found me a month ago. I realize that I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, the Child-That-Vanished, and whatever other ridiculous titles the media has decided to label me with, but the staring, and whispering, and all-around hero-worship has already gotten old. So, please, just _don't_."

Ron flushed again. "Sorry," he mumbled, "Didn't mean to upset you."

Harry sighed. "It's alright. I know I'll have to get used to it. And fast, I've heard the First-Years get sorted into their Houses in front of the whole school. Safe bet that everyone will be staring at me for most of the night."

"Ah, buck up, mate," the redhead tried awkwardly, "It's not like they'll be staring cause you've done something embarrassing. You defeated You-Know-Who!"

"That's another thing," Harry complained, "The entire Wizarding population seems to have conveniently forgotten that it wasn't just You-Know-Who that died that night. I lost my _parents_ , but nobody ever remembers that part; just that I somehow vanquished the 'greatest Dark Wizard of our time.' And then some people actually ask me how I did it." Harry snorted. "How should I know? I don't remember that night. Who remembers things that happened to them when they were two?"

Ron blushed again when he realized that those were exactly the sort of questions he'd been planning to ask Harry Potter. He scrambled for a safe topic. Finally, he settled on something he hoped wouldn't push any more of the other boy's buttons. "I'm sorry about your parents," he managed. "I never really thought about it before, but it must have been bloody horrible growing up without them. Sorry."

Harry watched Ron squirm in his seat for a bit before saying, "It's alright. Can't miss someone you don't remember, right?" He smiled sadly. "Sorry for going off on you like that. I've just had a rough...month, really."

"S'alright," Ron said, "I'd be going barmy too, if I were you."

And though it was rather small, for the first time that day, Harry gave a real smile.


End file.
